


Body Talk

by animmortalist



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Adoring!Bellamy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Body Worship, Body insecurity, Curvier!Clarke, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27790249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/pseuds/animmortalist
Summary: Clarke's never loved her body, the curves and fat in places she'd rather be smooth and taut. She doesn't think she'll ever meet someone who loves her for it either, not just in spite of it.Then she meets Bellamy, and he shows her just how much he loves every inch of her.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 147
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	Body Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Broashcol94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broashcol94/gifts).



> Hello, lovelies!! I have returned from my hiatus with a short little smutty piece for the wonderful icon that is the loml—Brooke aka @broashwhat. She prompted this story through t100fic-for-blm and I hope I have fulfilled that prompt well and made her proud. Love you lots bb!!
> 
> In case you didn't know, there's a wonderful initiative going on for t100 fandom called t100fic-for-blm. Learn more about us and how to prompt a writer or content creator with our carrd [here](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/). And as someone accepting prompts, I am currently accepting only WIP updates at this time.
> 
> *title is from Robyn's album 'Body Talk'* 
> 
> Sending love and good thoughts to you all 💜

Clarke’s always been on the curvier side, ever since she can remember, ever since she first started thinking about her looks when she was nine or ten. It wasn’t until she fully hit puberty though that her body changed for good. And then no matter what she seemed to try, refused to return to its thinner form. Her mom told her not to worry, that she was pretty regardless, but Clarke thinks that could’ve been just a lie to make her feel better. To help her get over the curse of a body she feels she doesn’t belong in. 

With many people her age and then beyond, her weight’s been a constant pressure on her. Building, building, building. Just waiting to give and break down every inch of her body she’s done her best to cover up. 

It never works. The diets. The crunches. Sweatpants and baggy t-shirts. None of it manages to hide the fact that she’s, by most people’s standards, a fat girl. She wishes she could embrace herself, all parts of her, but she can’t. Maybe because most of her friends are gorgeous and thin and so is her mom. Or it might be something deeper. 

She’s scared of what it could be when that voice in her head emerges. Telling her that no matter what tricks she plays on herself, it will never erase what she looks like, and how everyone around her sees her. That voice can go to hell, but she still listens to it, sometimes. 

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” Harper tells her one night over wine and romcoms when she confesses she doesn’t like herself all that much. 

She doesn’t believe her. For some reason, even though Clarke knows she means her words, she can’t. 

A part of the whole dilemma, is, though she doesn’t want it to be, of course, sex. 

Though she knows it’s more complicated than this, she thinks that her weight might not bother her so much if she wasn’t such a damn sub in bed. Which sometimes is a problem. Or all the time. But especially when she’s riding someone’s face and accidentally puts her full weight on them. God. The horror. Really, the first time should’ve been enough to teach her. But she yearns for someone to treat her soft and good. To fulfill every need and wish she has—she doesn’t get that, no matter who she’s dating. She tries to tell herself it’s not because of her weight, but she knows better.

Then she meets Bellamy, and she realizes she can be as baby as she wants, regardless of the number on her scale. 

“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” he asks one night when they’re still in the throes of it. 

Of course, she wants, she always wants, but this is the first time that she nods and pants out, “Yes, Bellamy.” 

It’s the first time someone’s asked the question at all. It feels like a relief, that she doesn’t have to bring it up first. A piece of her is filled with hope and something dangerous at the thought that he might want to take care of her as much as she wants him to. 

She doesn’t expect him to be so open with her after that, to let her talk about her struggles with weight and food without expecting anything in return. Of course, she gives it to him. She listens as he discusses his bad days, the times his mom’s boyfriends got physical. It enrages her, that anyone could ever hurt Bellamy. Mostly, she’s just hurt herself. 

At first, Clarke was kind of surprised Bellamy’d want her, when he clearly could have anyone. With more time though, she realized that was dismissive. He has real substance. At first, she believed her body was something he could look past, but after a couple of weeks, she thought that he might like her body. Might even love it.

It feels too good to be true, so she shuts it down, but not entirely, not as much as she thinks she should. 

Bellamy kisses every inch of her and while she’s cringed every time anyone else has done it, he’s so adoring she doesn’t even think about it until after he’s made her come twice. For the first time, at twenty-four, she’s with someone who doesn’t just not care about her weight, but seems to crave her all the more for it. 

It takes some getting used to, but she warms up to it, gradually. 

The first time Bellamy ties her up it’s sort of on a whim. 

She’s playing with his tie that he’s just taken off after coming home from work. Clarke loops it around her wrist as he places heated kisses along her neck, to the tops of her breasts that just barely escape her lacy bra that she bought for him. She actually possessed the confidence to buy the size that fits her this time, knowing the pout he’d give her if he thought she wasn’t taking proper care of herself. It sent a little thrill in her to picture how he’d look at her in it, and he doesn’t disappoint. 

“Bellamy,” she says, soft, breathy, in a way she knows she will command his attention. 

“What is it baby?” he asks and she slides her lip between her teeth at his voice, the sound of ‘baby’ so sweet on his lips she wants him inside her right then. 

“I want you to tie me up,” she tells him, feeling braver by the need evident in his tone. 

His lips part and for one terrifying second she thinks she’s crossed some kind of line and that he’ll say no. Then he grins and squeezes her soft hips. One hand moves up and rubs the fabric of his tie that she’s still got wrapped around her arm. 

“With this?” he asks.

“Yes, Bellamy.” She gives him a kiss, meaning for it to be soft but instead it’s downright filthy, him licking into her mouth, all heat. 

Goddamn him and the sinful look he gives her when she pulls away. He’s so delighted that she can’t be too upset about the impact he has on her. She should’ve proposed this weeks ago. 

He binds her wrists up, nice and tight. Just how she tells him to, how she likes it. 

And if it isn’t the best goddamn sex they’ve had.

Things happen quickly after that. Eventually, she feels comfortable enough to tell Bellamy how much she loves how he ties her up, and that no one’s ever been able to get her off quite like that. How she needs him to spank her, to place his hand at her neck, to treat her with intense adoration all over her body until she misbehaves. He seems to like doing everything to her as much as she likes receiving it. It’s like they were made for each other. 

Her weight’s still there though, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t escape it. 

Bellamy knows, and he does his best to assure her that it isn’t a problem. Tells her that she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Whispers how good she makes him feel as he thrusts deep inside her. None of it seems to make a difference in how  _ she  _ sees herself though. He keeps trying though, and never seems to mind when she directs his hands or mouth away from her stomach or thighs. It’s probably the only time she is the one calling the shots in bed, even though she’d give anything to relinquish control completely. 

“Let’s try something, okay?” Bellamy proposes one night, when they’ve just been lazily touching each other without any real intent behind it.

She perks up and feels her body buzz with want. 

Bellamy traces patterns over her stomach, the soft skin there that she knows she’ll never be able to make go away. For the first time in her life though, she wonders if it’s not such a bad thing. She tells him so and he kisses her, soft, but she changes it, needing more. 

Then he moves to her neck, sucking at the skin there. He moves down her body to her breasts. Which she sometimes likes but usually doesn’t when they hurt her back or prevent her from wearing the little blouses she likes. Bellamy slides her nipple between his teeth and she puts a palm to her mouth. He reaches up and removes her hand and tangles their fingers together. When he repeats the touch on her other breast, she lets him hear her. 

His mouth moves underneath her breasts, her ribs, her stomach. All the while, she practically keens with need under him. He smirks against her navel and she hates how easily he has her. Before he gives her what she really wants though, he pauses and leans up.

She sits up a little, puzzled as she asks, “What?” Then, because she always expects the worst, maybe, “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he says, almost hurried, and she nearly laughs. She would, if she wasn’t nervous she’d done something wrong. “I just...I want you in a different way.”

Clarke thinks she knows what he’s going to suggest, but she still wants to hear him say it. 

She plays with a curl and can’t help but tease him, even though she knows she might get punished for it, “And how do you want me?”

The look he gives her almost makes her shiver. His eyes roam across her and she doesn’t feel the least bit insecure at that moment. Instead, she just wants him to do with her as he pleases. However he needs, she’s willing to let him have, because she knows he’ll be sure to take care of her. He always does. If she’s able to count on one thing in this world, it’s that Bellamy will make sure she’s okay. That he’ll make sure she feels good.

He crawls back up her body, placing quick, bruising kisses as he goes. 

“I want my pretty baby to ride my face,” he tells her plainly. Like it doesn’t set her on fire. The audacity, seriously. 

Then, because he never allows her time to recover, he kisses her deeply. She loses herself in it, sweeping her hand into his hair, the other gripping onto his shoulder. Clarke gets so lost in his hands (on her breast and between her legs) that she gasps when he flips them. 

He’s patient, but can only be so much with her when she’s acting a little bratty. 

“ _ Clarke _ ,” he breathes against her neck.

She giggles, breathless, but moves up his body so she’s positioned right over his mouth. He fixes a hand onto her hip and she lowers herself down onto him, but careful to balance her weight and keep herself up by her knees. 

The first hit of his tongue against her makes her hand go out to the headboard to steady herself. The second makes her moan, guttural and deep in the back of her throat. The third makes her knees shake. 

“ _ Bellamy _ ,” she pants out. 

He doesn’t even ask her what she wants, just brushes his thumb along where she’s soaked and then presses it on her clit. 

She stutters out more words, but even she can’t make out what they are, or what they possibly mean. It doesn’t matter. She knows at this point that Bellamy just loves the sound of her voice. The idolization. The praise. She might be the sub, but he gets off on being good almost as much as she does. Maybe more, tonight.

Clarke’s so enthralled by how good he is to her, and telling him so, that she forgets her knees are shaking with the effort of holding herself up. Rather, she forgets that she’s meant to be holding herself up at all. 

When she feels her weight press down on Bellamy, she curses, and fights the spiral that follows. 

Before he can do or say anything, she’s rolling off him, convinced that she’s effectively ruined any kind of mood. For a moment, she stares at her ceiling, appalled. It’s only when he wraps a hand around her waist and pulls her against him that she relaxes. And even then, it’s only a little. Barely enough to make a dent in the shame she feels. 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says and buries her face into the crook of Bellamy’s neck. She pulls back. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He shakes his head. “No, I just…”

She rolls her eyes. “I know, I know.” Letting out a groan, she mutters, “I’m so stupid.”

“What?” he asks. 

Clarke studies the expression on his face. There’s concern there, yes, but also genuine confusion. She doesn’t know what’s to be confused about given what just happened. They tried something new, and like an idiot, she forgot how heavy she is and crushed him. Not very sexy. For a moment, she allows herself to think he’s only being considerate, giving her an out to pretend it never happened. She almost takes it, but doesn’t have the opportunity to do so. 

“Clarke, you didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you think.”

She huffs out, “You don’t have to lie for my ego, seriously, Bellamy I can—”

“I like it, baby,” he interrupts.

It’s the way he says ‘baby’ that gives her pause. Not because it’s different this time, but because it’s the same. As if nothing’s changed. Maybe it hasn’t. Maybe she really is that lucky. 

“You do?” Her voice is so hesitant, she’s sure he picks up on it right away. 

Bellamy sits up so his back is against the headboard.

“I thought you could tell,” he says, blushing. 

It’s endearingly ridiculous. One minute, she’s riding his face and he’s coaxing her on, and the next, he’s embarrassed. She loves him, she realizes, with no small amount of shock. 

She swallows and admits, “I was scared that I was making it up in my head.” She waves a hand and feels pathetic, but he reaches out and pulls her into his lap.

Clarke feels safe there, even though she’s nervous for a second about him accepting all her weight. She trusts that he means what he said though, and is encouraged when he wraps an arm around her so as to make sure she’s nice and close. Their chests and stomachs touch. She places her hands on his broad shoulders and traces patterns there for a while. There’s no pressure for her to say more, but she wants to, anyway. 

Somehow, Clarke finds it in herself to continue, “I’ve never been with someone who makes me feel good about sex like you.” She shakes her head. “I’ve never been with someone who didn’t see this,” she looks down at her body, “as something to look past rather than to love.”

“I love your body, baby,” he tells her. “I don’t see it as something to get over or whatever shit other assholes have told you.” He rubs her skin with the rough calouses of his hands. “You’re beautiful, Clarke, and you’re the only one I want. All of you.”

Before he said it, she thought he did, but she realizes she hadn’t let herself fully believe it. Experience what it’s like, having someone adore you that much. Clarke doesn’t know if she’s ready for that yet, but she wants to be, she wants to be ready for Bellamy. She knows she still has work to do on herself, that there will be things Bellamy can’t solve or help her get over. Some of her hangups she’ll have to confront herself. He’ll be there though, when she does. Of that, she’s sure now. 

She kisses him, soft at first, but soon, the need picks up again and they’re chasing a high that only the other one can give them. 

He pulls back and she whines. Huffing out a laugh, he asks, “Now how about my baby stops teasing me by looking how she does and rides me?”

“Well,” she plays coy, “I suppose that can be arranged.” She brushes a hand down his chest and gives him a swift tug. 

He shakes his head. “Naughty,” but he’s grinning. 

Then Bellamy shifts her in his lap, so all of her weight pushes down on him as she slides along the length of him. They both curse on the first thrust. The bed rocks underneath them and Clarke laughs. She  _ loves _ fucking Bellamy. Not just because it feels good, because he gives her exactly what she craves, but because she can have fun, too.

None of it feels weird or makes her self-conscious or anything else other people have made her think during sex. With Bellamy, it’s just right. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> Find me on tumblr (@detectivebellamyblake)


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